


The Sound

by tesselate



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Borderline Personality Disorder, Existentialism, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Recreational Drug Use
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-31
Updated: 2017-07-31
Packaged: 2018-12-09 12:35:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,468
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11669235
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tesselate/pseuds/tesselate
Summary: Sehun is a nihilist, Minseok is a good kid with BPD. Bonded over marijuana and existential dread, they share a soft afternoon.





	The Sound

**Author's Note:**

> this isn't meant to be a cohesive fic or even a full idea,, it's kind of just a small conversation between partners. (also based on the lil gay subplot in the kokobop mv lmao) ((also also is the title based on that song by the 1975? u bet ur ass)) (((also also also how does one write about the schticky icky without sounding like a narc or stoner)))

 

“Sehun,” Minseok started as they both stared up at the blue expanse of sky above them, “when was the last time you cried?”

Sehun mulled over his response as he readjusted to rest his head on the elder’s bare chest. When indeed? He hadn’t cried at his mother’s funeral the year before, he hadn’t wept when his first dog, Vivi, got hit by that car a decade ago, he hadn’t even shed a tear when he watched The Lion King with Minseok the night before (despite the fact that it had the elder sobbing until snot ran from his nose.)

“My violent exile from the womb.” He realized after a beat how that must have sounded so he shrugged and amended his statement with a quiet: “Probably.”

Minseok flicked the crown of his head and pulled a joint out from behind his ear. “I’m being serious, fuckface. We’ve known each other for what, two years now, and I’ve never seen you cry.”

Sehun couldn’t stop the sardonic look that crossed his face at the elder’s words. (He could hear the flick of a lighter being brought to life and soon after, the faint smell of marijuana.) “Where’d this come from, anyway? And you know, not all of us are little bitches.”

Minseok let the smoke out of his lungs and shoved the joint into Sehun’s hand. “And not all of us are emotionless androids.” His tone lacked the heat that it probably should have.

They lapsed back into comfortable silence after a moment and simply lay there, enjoying the sticky heat of the summer sun and the slow-growing fog in their brains. The salty tang of sex hung thick in the air between them, clinging to them like a second skin. Sehun was suddenly grateful they’d decided to venture out to the forest by the school as opposed to Minseok’s room (he couldn’t imagine having to sit through another one of his mother’s lectures about cracking open windows and ‘basic decency’.)

“Are you this apathetic about everything?” Minseok asked suddenly, deciding that he was a little indignant about Sehun’s response.

He cleared his throat and ran a hand up and down Minseok’s milky thigh absentmindedly. Formulating a response that didn’t offend his boyfriend was usually quite difficult, but this time it was as simple as breathing.

“I just haven’t really found anything that interests me. I’m like a,” he paused in an attempt to find the right words, “misanthropic, nihilistic…”

“Dickwad?” Minseok offered with a smirk as he crushed the joint on the soft earth beneath them.

“Dickwad.” Sehun agreed. These were the times he liked the best. The soft moments between them where they could just lie together and not have to worry about fulfilling their roles. He loved the times where his brain felt like it was filled with fog and everything was funnier and just a little easier to process. 

“But you like me.” Minseok added quietly. Evidently it was something he was proud of.

Sehun nodded a few times before moving again so he could be flat against the ground. “Don’t let that go to your head. I also like pina coladas.” Sehun’s eyes followed Minseok as the elder sat up, his gaze skyward, possibly following a fairly fluffy cloud. Minseok always got strange after a blunt; it was either one of two extremes: panic attacks or a near-manic emotionless state with hollow giggling. 

“I was at Starbucks the other day…” He was empty. Decidedly so. “Stood in line like normal, ordered my vanilla chai tea latte from Baekhyun -- my usual barista -- sat down in my usual seat and just...thought.” Minseok paused, a mirthless laugh escaping his lips. “Some MILF brought in her kid, got him a croissant and a small chocolate milk, got herself a skinny mocha latte with a caramel shot. She was good looking. Waifish, kind of graceful but looked really tired under all that makeup.”

Sehun cocked a brow at the elder and rubbed his lower lip. “So? D’you fuck her in the bathroom or something?”

Minseok snorted. “Yeah, the raging gay fucked a mom in the Starbucks bathroom while her four year old drank his chocolate milk alone at the table. Would you just listen, hm?” He paused (probably trying to recollect his thoughts), and looked back at Sehun, staring him straight in the eye. After a moment’s hesitation -- Sehun could recognize the contemplation in his eyes -- he placed a hand on his cheek, softly, so softly, as if he would break. “The kid wanted to sit at my table, threw a major fit and glared at me while mum dragged him out. And it kind of just hit me when he was gone that...we’re all gunna be that. Gone. You know?”

“No.”

Minseok slapped Sehun playfully and turned back around, looking away from him. “I mean we’re all gunna die.”

He didn’t want to laugh in the other’s face but God he was always so dramatic. He just couldn’t help it. “Your brain really went from child leaving a Starbucks to the eternal hotbox? Minseok, lighten the fuck up, dude.”

“No!” Minseok was getting defensive. “I’ve just thinking about it a lot recently. We’re going to die. We’re just going to…stop....existing. It’s fucked up to think that one day we’re not gunna be here, right? And that soon no one’s gunna remember us. We’re just going to stop...stop….God, Sehun, stop rubbing your lip, I can hear you doing it.”

Sehun caught himself and snorted before crossing his arms over his chest. “Sorry, you know how stimmy I get when I’m high. Please, continue.”

He sighed. “But like it’s not just us, it’s everyone we know. My mum is going to die. I’m going to have to live with the fact that the woman who raised me won’t be here. Then what? I can barely manage with the help she’s giving me now, what the fuck am I supposed to do when she dies? Mourn her? Regret all the time I could have spent with her but didn’t? Wish I’d gone home to visit more? Wish I hadn’t said that one thing when I was eight or lost that bracelet of hers when I was four? Am I supposed to feel sick over all the things I never got the chance to tell her? Me dying is terrifying enough I can’t fucking deal with mum not being here anymore.”

Sehun never knew what to say when Minseok got like this. They were too different to real be able to help each other. Secretly, Sehun thought that was what made them so great. They were so different, so fundamentally broken in different, exciting ways. Sehun knew when he got especially emotionless it threw Minseok for a loop, it was almost as if he were trying to put together a thousand piece white puzzle. But when Minseok got existential and emotional Sehun would wrap his emotionless hands around his neck and bring him back down like an anchor. 

“But also consider this: death is just the end of you as a series of memories. We don’t know what happens after death but I’m willing to bet you won’t be neurodivergent wherever you are. If you’re a rotting corpse in a box and everything just stops then you won’t be panicky anymore. If there’s a God,” he couldn’t help but make a face at that one, “then I’m sure She wouldn’t want you to feel shitty after death right? But really who fucking cares? Death is escape from capitalism so who gives a fuck?”

Sehun could almost hear the elder grit his teeth and draw his knees to his chest. He was always so touchy.

“Hey,” Sehun mumbled, knowing even within himself that maybe he’d said something off, “look at me.” He wasn’t about to coax any longer than that; he knew Minseok would comply, he just needed a moment.

When their eyes finally met, Sehun sat up and placed a delicate kiss to the corner of his bow lips. He tangled his fingers in Minseok’s hair and scratched lightly at the scalp as if he were petting a dog. 

“Good boy,” he praised wryly.

Minseok let out a begrudging chuckle at the other’s words and shoved him playfully. “Shut up...We should probably head back soon.”

“Yeah,” Sehun sighed, the world around them slowly going dark, “let’s stay like this a while longer though. If I got home in time in dinner my dad would lose his fucking mind.”

“No, _he’d_ think _you’d_ lost your fucking mind,” Minseok corrected, nestling his face in the crook of the elder’s neck. He let his joke rest for a moment before speaking up again. “I’m kind of in love with you, you know.”

Sehun bristled.

“Yeah. I know.”


End file.
